A/N:

So sorry for the wait on this one guys. Writing material this heavy is…emotionally taxing to say the least, and although the show being back on has re-inspired my muse, the current Adalind-Nick's baby story line is just…ugh. Seriously?! (I guess I should be happy that my OTP is happy in real life, at least?).

Anywho, the heavy angst and sadness continues in this chapter and the next few, and then everything will start to come back together, promise! Or does it…

Fictional

The next few days passed by in a bit of a blur for all of them, as they grieved for Nick and simultaneously tried to make sense of what happened.

But they couldn't. Nothing about this made sense. Nick wasn't supposed to die like this, not now, not when he had a newborn son who needed him…

Life wasn't fair, and they realized they had just been kidding themselves all along to think their story would have a happy ending. The true Grimm's fairy tales were hardly fairy tales, after all. Nick's ancestors had been tragically right.

"Damn it," Monroe growled into the mirror as he tried to finish his tie, but the uncontrollable shaking of his fingers was making it an impossible feat. He tried for yet a fourth time to get the knot just right, only to drop the ends of the tie again with his unsteady grasp. He paused and stared absently into the mirror at his reflection, willing to give absolutely anything to change the events of the past few days.

"Monroe, if anything ever happens to me…"

"Nothing is going to happen to you. You've got me watching your back. You'll be fine."

Had that conversation really only been a week ago?

He growled again in rage as Nick's voice echoed in his head, his eyes flaring into crimson red. He suddenly punched the bathroom mirror as he was overcome with a mixture of anger and grief, shards of glass flying everywhere and his knuckles becoming cut and bloodied around his elongated claws. He shook his head as he tried to reign back his fragile control, leaning forward and gripping the edges of the sink desperately as he tried to slow his breathing.

"Monroe!" he heard Rosalee call out in alarm from the bedroom. A moment later she rushed into the bathroom, dressed in her best black dress. "What was that…" she trialed off as she entered and took in the sight of the shattered mirror and Monroe desperately clinging to his sanity at the edge of the sink.

He took in another deep breath and finally turned around to face her apologetically. "I'm sorry…about the mirror. I just couldn't get my tie right."

She frowned sadly as she slowly walked towards him, carefully inspecting his bloodied knuckles and the shards of glass everywhere.

"It's ok," she replied gently, reaching for his tie then and slowly finishing the knot expertly, her movements fluid and graceful. "There," she smiled sadly at him. "I think that ought to do it."

"Thanks," he mumbled in reply, glancing at himself in what remains of the mirror were still dangling from the cabinet.

"Are you ok?" she asked gently, the same three words she had been constantly asking him for days now, even though she already knew the answer.

None of them were ok, really. Who knew when they would be again. He turned back to face her, closing his eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath.

"Tell me this isn't happening today. Tell me I'm not burying my best friend today."

He opened his eyes then to meet Rosalee's tear filled ones. "Oh Monroe," she breathed, reaching forward to grab his uninjured hand, "I would do anything to make this not true, to wake us all up from this nightmare."

"Me too," Monroe sighed deeply, pulling her into a tight embrace in the middle of the bathroom, desperately clinging to her to keep himself grounded. "Me too."

After several moments, Rosalee reluctantly pulled away from his embrace. "Well, come on," she said hoarsely, dabbing at her tears, "let's get your hand cleaned up. We have to pick up Juliette in half an hour."

"Yea," Monroe nodded absently, not even wincing when she dabbed some alcohol onto his cuts that she had suddenly obtained from under the sink. They were going to take Juliette to the memorial, since Hank had stayed the night again last night. The three of them were determined not to let Juliette or Reed out of their sight, even though she had continually protested, and Renard now had a 24/7 patrol posted outside her house (police or otherwise). No matter what, they were determined that nothing would happen to Juliette or Reed ever again. It was their responsibility to protect them now.

Now that Nick was gone.

"Hey Hank," Rosalee greeted solemnly as he opened Juliette's front door for them.

"Hey guys," he replied somberly as he let them in, shutting the door firmly behind them.

"How did last night go?" Monroe asked quietly, scanning around the room and noting how eerily empty and quiet the house seemed.

"Uh," Hank sighed, running a hand haggardly over his face. He was clearly exhausted. "Reed was up a few times in the night, and when he wasn't crying, it was me or Juliette." He paused, shaking his head. "Yea, it was a long night."

"I'm sorry," Rosalee gripped his shoulder meaningfully, "you could have called us."

"No," Hank shook his head quickly, "no, it's ok. We all need to help each other, as much as we can right now."

"Well, go home and get some rest man," Monroe urged him gently. "We'll take her to the memorial."

Hank frowned seriously, crossing his arms over his chest. "There is no way I'm leaving them alone in this house."

Monroe raised his eyebrows at this. "Well, we aren't either. Really, Hank, you've stayed here the last two nights. We're here now, and there's still a squad car outside. I think Renard is leaving them posted until further notice."

"Make that indefinite notice," Hank grumbled, shaking his head to clear the exhaustion.

Rosalee squeezed his shoulder again. "Please, go home and get some rest before the memorial. You have to take care of yourself too, Hank. Nick would want that."

Hank faltered for a minute at her words, looking wistful at the mention of his partner's name. "Yea, yea, I guess he would."

Rosalee offered him a shaky smile. "Ok then. Get out of here and let us help now."

"Yea," Hank sighed again deeply, "alright. I am going to meet the Captain and Wu at the precinct and then we will be there." He paused, shaking his head in disbelief. "I never thought I would have to give a eulogy for anyone…let alone Nick."

Rosalee quickly grabbed Hank and pulled him into a tight hug, hiding her face in his shoulder so he couldn't see the two lone tears escape and roll down her face at his words. He squeezed her back even tighter.

"Ok, ok, get out of here," Monroe said hoarsely as Rosalee released him, pushing Hank towards the door again. "We'll see you there."

"Ok," Hank nodded sadly. "Just to warn you, Juliette went upstairs about an hour ago to get ready, and when I tried to check on a her a few minutes ago, she wouldn't let me in."

"We've got it, don't worry," Rosalee reassured him gently. "Go home and get ready."

"If you're sure," Hank hesitated, still looking unsure.

"We're sure, man," Monroe squeezed his shoulder in a semblance of comfort.

"Ok," Hank sighed reluctantly as he opened the front door and finally left.

"I'm going to go check on Juliette," Rosalee frowned worriedly after Hank was gone.

"I better go with you," Monroe added with a furrowed brow. They rushed towards the stairs and hurried to Juliette's bedroom door.

"Juliette?" Rosalee knocked on the door, "Juliette, its Rosalee."

"And Monroe," Monroe added, as they exchanged another worried glance outside the door. "Can you let us in?"

They heard some banging around in the room, as if drawers were being slammed, and after a long moment, Juliette finally unlocked the door.

Monroe let out a sigh of relief. "That's good. I hope."

Rosalee looked back at him before slowly turning the door handle. "Ok Juliette, we're coming in." She swung open the door, and she and Monroe paused in surprise at the scene that lay before them.

It seemed as though the entire contents of Juliette's closet were strung carelessly across the room, on the floor, on the bed, on every spare surface, sparing Reed's wooden crib in the corner. He was currently sleeping soundly, unaware of the chaos around him.

Juliette was still dressed in her pink silk bathrobe, only one side of her hair curled. With shaking hands she was digging through a pile of dresses on her bed, throwing each one to the floor as she looked at it. She didn't even look up to acknowledge that they were there.

Rosalee and Monroe shared another worried look before Rosalee gestured at Monroe to wait in the doorway, and she slowly entered the room.

"Juliette," she began softly as she approached her friend, "what are you doing?"

Juliette finally looked up then, her mascara already smeared and her half-finished hair adding to the wild look about her. She opened her mouth and then closed it, shaking her head miserably.

"I was, uh, I was just trying to find," she began as she looked back at her, "a dress to wear. But I just can't decide…and I just wanted to look nice…for Nick…" she blinked back tears uselessly, the mascara starting to run down her fair cheeks in black streaks.

"Oh, honey," Rosalee smiled sadly, uselessly blinking back her own tears as she reached for her hand, "you will look beautiful in whatever you wear. Come on, let's get you cleaned up, and then I'll help you pick out a dress."

"Ok," Juliette agreed shakily, not protesting when Rosalee grabbed her hand and led her towards the bathroom. Monroe had to choke down his own tears at the sight. It was one thing to lose his composure at home, with Rosalee. But he refused to do it in front of Juliette. She and Reed needed them right now, and he was determined to be strong for them, no matter how much his own heart was breaking.

"Monroe," Rosalee called out gently, stirring him from his thoughts, "can you watch Reed?"

"Yea, yea of course," Monroe replied, stepping forwards then as Rosalee closed the bathroom door behind them. Monroe couldn't help but smile as he stopped at the edge of the crib, the very one he had painstakingly made by hand, and peered down at his sleeping godson. He was so innocent like this, so peaceful, it was hard to reconcile that with the death and violence that had surrounded his entering the world.

He bent down then and carefully scooped the sleeping infant up, his heart lurching when Reed sighed and nestled even deeper into his arms. Monroe swallowed thickly as he gently rocked the sleeping baby, unable to stop thinking how much he already looked like his father.

"I promise you Reed, I'll always protect you," he told him, gently running a thumb along the side of his face, "and you can always count on me, for whatever you need. I'll always be here for you." He paused and looked up at the ceiling as he blinked back tears, wondering if Nick could still hear him, wherever he was now.

"I promise Nick, I didn't forget. I promise."

A cold and icy drizzle began as they reached the memorial site, and it was only fitting for the gloomy day before them.

The memorial was outside at cemetery site near the precinct, as were most of the funeral services for local police officers. Several black umbrellas popped open as most of Portland gathered to pay their respects to one of their city's protectors.

With great reluctance, Juliette had relinquished Reed into the hands of a trusted female police officer, who was keeping him in nearby in the warmth and safety of the precinct. Unsurprisingly, several other officers had volunteered to stay behind at the precinct to offer more protection for Nick's son. The officers of the Portland P.D. were like a family, and it was both touching and heartbreaking to see them all come together when one of their own had fallen.

As the service began, Juliette took a seat in the front row between Monroe and Rosalee on one side and Hank on the other, taking some solace from them all surrounding her with their support and love. Renard walked solemnly up to the podium front to face the large crowd of mourners gathered for the service, ready to deliver his own eulogy and dedication to one of his fallen officers. Although Hank was also giving a eulogy, they had all agreed that Renard should go first and address all the members of the community (Wesen or otherwise) who had come to say goodbye to Nick. As he reached the podium, Renard paused for a moment next to an enlarged picture of Nick still in uniform. It seemed the most fitting picture for an officer's memorial, since there was no body or casket with which to say their final goodbyes.

There was barely a seat left in the large open yard, despite the harsh weather, and Juliette was pleasantly surprised to see how many people had shown up for Nick's memorial. He had touched so many lives, and he probably didn't even know what a difference he had truly made in Portland, or maybe the world at large… She shook her head, blinking back tears. She couldn't start now, or she'd never stop.

"As captain of one of the finest police departments in this country," Renard solemnly began, "it is my privilege to work with the bravest men and women this city has to offer. This department has a reputation for being one of the best, and Detective Nicholas Burkhardt was no exception. He was a valuable asset to this precinct, and to this city. His bravery, and what many would call instinct for the job, were unparalled. To the civilians whose lives he saved, and to the families for which he got justice, I know I don't need to tell you that. Nick was one of the very best, and he put his entire heart into every case."

Renard paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, his piercing gaze holding everyone's in the crowd. "Unfortunately, the hardest, and without a doubt, the worst part of this job is when we lose one of our own. Sadly, we are gathered here today to say goodbye to one of our 'family', as every officer here knows we become. But Nick was so much more than that. He was a husband, a new father, a friend, a partner, and a good man until the very end." The unsung 'Grimm' that Renard couldn't say resonated thickly with the Wesen attendees in the crowd.

"The senseless way," Renard's voice took on a steelier tone now, "in which we lost him, to foreign terrorists on our soil, is unprecedented and unacceptable. And I promise you, on behalf of myself and the Portland P.D., the men responsible for the death of Detective Nick Burkhardt will be found, and they will answer for their crimes."

He paused, looking back out at the crowd, letting the weight of his words sink in. His hardened gaze finally settled on Juliette, and he softened slightly, giving her a barely imperceptible nod, a promise of sorts, before he turned to look back at the portrait of Nick by the podium.

"Rest easy, Nick. Your absence is greatly felt, more than you will ever know. Portland will never be the same."

Nothing ever would be.

TBC